


In my space (I won't let go of you)

by volna (seductrce)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Hugging, M/M, Train Ride, a lot of words about nothing at all, bad jokes?, theres hugging okay, uhm?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-19
Updated: 2014-09-19
Packaged: 2018-02-17 23:52:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2327705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seductrce/pseuds/volna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two hours and seventeen minutes until Tokyo Central Station. Another 25 aboard the Intracity. Getting off at that one station. He’d be there. Just over two hours. Only two more hours.<br/>Funny, how time can seem endless when you want it to pass fast the most.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In my space (I won't let go of you)

**Author's Note:**

> Daichi is on another trip to Tokyo and I'm in despair. The twitter withdrawal is showing but this one is a lot of self-indulgence. I just needed to get it off my chest. Just needed to put down one small stone on the path that is long distance between them. This makes zero sense. Don't mind me. Don't mind anything. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The doors made a quiet pffffshing sound when closing behind him, setting in place like well oiled with a satisfying thump.  
Letting all the passengers board the train and entering last did have its advantages. At least nobody was pushing from behind.  
Daichi looked up at the rail running along the whole length of the wagon, displaying seat numbers and destinations.

"G56/G57w" said the little blue letters shining over the seats closest to the compartment entrance, where Daichi had reflexively grabbed a pole just as the train had set into movement smoothly, making the cautionary measure seem unnecessary in the face of japanese travelling technology.  
"G60/61w" was displayed atop the row of two farther to the right. Daichi grabbed the strap of his bag tighter, swinging it over his shoulder with ease (He didn’t have to pack much for two and a half days, anyway.) and made his way down the aisle, footsteps too quiet to be heard over the noise of travelers claiming their seats and storing away their luggage.

He didn’t come far, though, as he had to stop a few moments later, waiting for a family of five to find everybody’s place around a table group, fending off the young parents' apologetic glances and „Please excuse us!"s with little waves and „No problem."s, smiling at the toddler sucking at some biting toy in one of his mothers' arms and earning a joyful chortle, before pushing himself past carefully, just to stop yet again a few steps farther, helping a wrinkly old lady half his height lift her equally tiny suitcase onto the top shelf.  
When Daichi finally found his seat at the far end of the car his cheek was still hurting from the granny's pinching.  
"Such a proper young man", she had said before squishing his face and pushing a 500 yen coin into his hand. Daichi had tried to decline politely, but the lady had been, surprisingly or maybe not so much, extremely persistent.

Sighing, Daichi flopped down into the seat by the window and rummaged through his bag until he found both wallet and train ticket. "G85w", he murmured, checking his reservation just to be sure. "Right one..."  
The coin joined the others in his wallet’s change pouch. Maybe he should buy his parents a souvenir for the money. It felt wrong spending it on himself or _him_ , but then again, he had visited Tokyo so often already, his mom was still searching for places to put all the miniature monuments he had brought back (a disturbing line of mini Tokyo Towers lined the bathroom window sill and made every family member slightly uncomfortable using the room but-).

Daichi closed his bag back up and put it into the empty seat next to him, taking off his trench in the process. There was something calming about settling down for a longer train ride. Something soothing about finally being able to relax, lean back in your seat, stretch your legs and put your headphones in, knowing you can’t do anything else but wait for the train to bring you where you want to be. 

The rural outskirts of Miyagi rushed by in a blur of 180 mph, trees and bushes melting into blotches of dark green and brown and grey, but Daichi hadn’t yet grown tired of watching nature fly by as the train made its way towards the capital. Not for the first time he wondered how the land would look like from above, spreading out endlessly like rolled out bread dough, not perfectly even, all bumps and soft valleys, but seeming more so the farther up you go, the higher you soar, the thinner the air you breathe becomes and the harder it is to beat your wings, coal black and shining in the pale light of a cold autumn’s sun.  
Two hours and seventeen minutes until Tokyo Central Station. Another 25 aboard the Intracity. Getting off at _that_ station. He’d be there. Just over two hours. Only two more hours.  
Funny, how time can seem endless when you want it to pass fast the most.

  


*

  


Pearl Jam’s "Jeremy" was just setting into its second chorus when the startlingly loud sound of his ringtone interrupted the bass and almost made Daichi jump out of his skin.  
Fumbling with his pocket, fingers clumsy, Daichi extracted his phone. "Mom" the display said, showing his mother’s smiling face, her’s being one of the few contacts he had actually bothered putting a picture in.  
Accepting the call with a swipe of his thumb, ears still ringing uncomfortably from the noise that had been so much louder over headphones, Daichi lifted the phone slightly.

"Hey, mom."

"Hey, sweetheart, I just wanted to check on you. How are you? Is everything alright? You sound sleepy…"

"Yes, I’m sorry, I didn’t call earlier. I’ve been…dozing, I guess. Everything’s fine, I’m almost in…oh. I’m almost in Kouriyama.“ 

Daichi tried to silently clear his throat and get rid of the slight grogginess his fake nap had left him with. A whole-hearted yawn he couldn’t suppress made the oxygen rush to his brain and almost miss his mother’s next words.

"Oh, I’m glad. Dai-chan, say, I could send your brother to meet you on Sunday, if you want to, he said he’s got time.“

"No, it’s okay, really, I’ll take the subway. I’ll probably be late, anyway.“

„Hmmm, I see. Please don’t miss your train, though, alright?“

Daichi’s cheeks felt hotter, suddenly. 

"I won’t.“

"I know you won’t. Have fun, sweetie. Say hi from us.“

"Thanks, mom. I’ll call.“

"We wait. Bye-bye.“

The line went dead with Daichi’s „Bye“ being half cut off and music flooded back in, swallowing the sound of Daichi’s sigh in the stereo like a starving animal whose favorite dish was despair and resignation. His family wouldn’t ever let him forget that one time he missed three periods on monday morning because he had still been on his train home.  
Sometimes the two of them got too busy. Sometimes being too busy resulted in exhausting yourself and falling asleep in a pile of… _them_...and missing your train like a pro. Sometimes…

Not that his parents had any idea about that. He was _just a friend_ , after all. 

Daichi was about to stuff his phone back into his pocket when it rang again. Another silent sigh faded from his lips as Daichi took the call immediately.

"What is it, mom?“

There was half a second of a deep silence on the other end. And then laughter.

In theory, Daichi should be a bit pissed, probably. Pissed and taken off guard and annoyed at the rudeness of not being greeted properly.  
In practice, exactly two warm feelings bloomed in his chest, embarrassment and fondness, both strong enough to make him wriggle in his seat and puff up his burning cheeks, enjoying and simultaneously trying to get rid of the butterflies making his insides coil.

He didn’t have to look at the screen to confirm. He knew this laugh, so, so well, having heard it time after time and yet never enough.  
Irritating and silky and deep and crisp, sarcasm bubbling underneath amusement and, in this case, in _Daichi's_ case, topped with something that made him bite his lip so he wouldn't smile at his phone, at the name, at the face with the wicked sparkly eyes and sly grin. Kuroo had taken it himself when he had noticed Daichi had no contact picture for him. 

 

_"first of all, why dont you sync up with your facebook account? it should import all the profile pics. and second..." kuroo takes daichis phone into his own hand and makes a quick and silly selfie with half a daichi in the frame that he sets as his contact. "here. personalized. no one else gets to see me with such hair.“_

 

Oh, right, that was probably worth mentioning. It had been a Saturday morning and Kuroo had just come out of the shower, hair still dripping and hanging into his eyes, a mess as always, but a different kind of mess. The kind that made Daichi’s heart beat a bit faster and a lump form in his throat. The kind that took away his ability to speak or breathe or function. Kuroo had no idea about that, of course. Or so Daichi liked to believe.

  


_my hand runs through your hair as you change channels once every second, never staying long enough to see whats on, relentless finger pushing the forward button out of pure boredom. you turn back as if to ask something, lips suddenly on my finger tips, i dont even know how it happened this time and you probably dont either. you smile into the kisses, though, all sly and savvy, our gazes locked as you make me blush, and then yourself._

  


"Stop laughing.“

Daichi tried to keep his voice even. Tried to put a little irritation in and not let the feeling in his chest peak through.

„I'm…I’m not … _mom_ …I’m totally…not...laughing.“ 

Kuroo fake coughed into his giggles and Daichi’s cheeks kept burning, colored apple and strawberry and burgundy wine. He should really…

"You should really check who’s calling before picking up.“

"I know, she just called a few moments earlier and I thought she forgot someth-...anyway. What do you want?"

"Hello to you, too, Sawamura-san. Where are you?“

"Just short of Kouriyama . A little less than an hour and a half.“

"I could come to Central, if you want me to?“

The feelings intensified, fondness having overpowered embarrassment by now, bubbles of warmth flowing in his blood stream, spreading the heat all the way to the tips of Daichi’s ears, popping like center shocks to reveal a filling of attraction and need so intense it almost scared him. 

"And I thought you’d stop asking after the twentieth time. You don’t need to.“

"...Just can’t wait to see you.“

Lips pressed together tightly, Daichi breathed for a second or two before answering. 

"I…I know. One and a half hours.“

„… D'you want me to order something or …?"

"We can pick something up on the way?“

"The usual?“

"The usual.“

"I got a _ton_ of new movies since last time, you’re gonna love them. I just need to….one and a half hours right?“

"You don’t have to tidy up.“

The thing is, there probably was nothing to tidy up. When Daichi had first visited Kuroo and found his room in comfortable, unforced order strangely resembling his own back home, he had been … well, surprised. Kuroo had probably fixed things up, Daichi had thought, and he should be careful turning wardrobe knobs as not to be beaten to death by all sorts of ..stuff. But no. No matter how many doors Daichi had opened that first day, nothing had killed him by falling onto his head at the wrong angle from an overfilled cupboard. It seemed…it seemed as if Kuroo’s room just was this way.  
And when Daichi had come by two weeks later nothing had changed.  
It had made him furious, for some reason, up until the moment it didn’t anymore.

"I know, I don’t plan to. I’m just thinking I should probably change the sheets…"

Kuroos voice trailed off into nothingness, much too innocent, and the heat that had been mainly sitting in Daichi’s cheeks and chest suddenly pooled lower. He had to end this call. As soon as possible. 

„Bye, _Kuroo-kun._ "

"Wait, Sawamura…"

"Hm?“

„6.38. I’ll be waiting.“

"...See ya.“

„Soon."

  


*

  


Daichi couldn’t fall asleep. He tried to nap, knowing that that would be the wisest way to spend the hour left on the shinkansen but he just couldn’t settle down, not after that phone call. He tried to read, too, Coelho’s books were quite fascinating and „The Alchemist" was one of his favorites, his copy battered and well-read, but he couldn’t concentrate properly, and so Daichi fidgeted around in his seat, listened to music and actively tried not to grin like an idiot the closer Tokyo came. 

At 6.04 pm Daichi left his train at Tokyo central station.  
Buying his ticket and changing platforms was almost an automatic process, Daichi didn’t even think about what he was doing, really, the only thing he had to decide being whether to take a regular tall or a flavored coffee of the day and save 150 yen at Starbucks.  
He wasn’t exactly one for sweet syrupy flavorings but it was the end of october and something about cinnamon almond sounded very inviting.

The cup warmed his hands as he waited on platform 14, taking little sips of surprisingly delicious coffee. Same train. Same seat. For some reason that one was always empty, as if awaiting his return. 

  


*

  


Five minutes short of having to leave his train Daichi’s ticket was checked and clipped. He pulled out his headphones when talking to the ticket guy and let them hang loose over the top of his deep red scarf. Kuroo would like him wearing it. Kuroo definitely would.

  


_"see, this one looks good on you. i told you, red suits you a lot.", kuroo says, wrapping the scarf around daichis neck and stepping back to behold his work. „damn...“_  
 _"damn what?" daichi asks, brow raised in a mix between scepsis and amusement. red. red reminds him. all the time._  
 _"damn, you look fucking amazing, im sorry, i just cant..."_  
 _kuroos voice becomes more of a murmur the closer he comes to daichi, the closer their lips are to joining._  
 _daichi wants to say "not here" but its too late for that, really, hes already being pushed into the empty aisle behind a rack full of various male accessories, and kuroos mouth on his makes him forget any good reason for not making out on the third floor of tokyos main 'h &m men', any good reason and any bad, and daichi has no idea what would have happened, but the rack suddenly slides away and they basically fall on top of each other, kuroos forehead on his chest, both breaking into laughter simultaneously, lying on the floor and trying hard to get up._  
 _kuroo insists on the scarf and pulls it out of the bag daichi had been handed by the girl behind the counter just as they step back out onto the street to drape it around daichi yet again._  
 _„will you be able to keep your eyes on the street?" daichi asks in a mock attempt at teasing._  
 _„probably not." kuroo answers, the usual glint in his gaze deepening to become something that should make daichi blush, probably. It tingles daichis cheeks, making him shiver in warm mid-september end of summer weather._

  


The last three stops felt like an eternity. Daichi had got rid of his cup some time ago and nothing besides the strap of his bag was there to hold onto to keep his hands from shaking. For some reason, visiting Kuroo always had this effect on him. Daichi wouldn’t exactly call himself hard to excite, but he was usually able to keep a cool head, to stay calm or at least pretend to be when agitation and anxiety were trying to get the better of him, making him want to run around on the spot. He was able to keep it down. That was part of being captain. Staying cool. Collected. Stable and Solid. No matter what.  
Daichi lost the captain when he was with Kuroo. He left him somewhere on a train station in Miyagi and didn’t find him back until Monday morning, 7 am, first period, theoretical physics. Physics were able to make him settle down from the high. Little else was.  
But maybe it wasn’t visiting Kuroo. Maybe it was Kuroo himself, because shaking hands and stupid grins he tried to hide were not Tokyo bound. They happened just as badly at home, when the first thing Kuroo would do upon entering his room was flop down face first onto Daichi’s pillow and inhale deeply, as if taking a hit, long sigh, almost moan, before getting back up to wrap his arms around Daichi’s waist from behind, pressing his face into the curve of Daichi’s neck and hum, pleased and content. Daichi would put his hands on Kuroo’s to try and wrench them apart, or not really try, just pretend to, just to make Kuroo cling even closer, bite down at the exact same spot as always and seal it with a kiss. 

"Next stop: Ayase station. We will arrive shortly. Thank you for travelling with Tokyo Intracity. We wish you a nice day. Take care.“  
The pleasant female announcement voice ripped his day dream to shreds and Daichi was more than thankful. He would never admit to it, but Kuroo-day dreams were extremely entangling, enough to have had him miss his stop at least four times already over the course of his visits.  
Breathing deeply and slowly to calm his suddenly but yet again tense nerves, Daichi got up and moved towards the train doors, triple checking if he had taken everything with him. He got in line to leave behind a rather young man in suit and a middle-aged lady grasping two shopping bags in one and the fingers of a little girl with pigtails and beautiful shiny black hair in the other hand.  
The Intracity wasn’t quite as smooth as the shinkansen and the train rattled as it rolled into the platform along to Daichi’s thumping heart. It was almost uncomfortable, that feeling of nervous anticipation he wished he wouldn’t feel anymore, not after so many times.  
Daichi grabbed a pole with his free hand to steady himself, the slowing train making the most agonizing breaking sound before coming to a halt abruptly.  
Daichi’s heart had apparently changed location, clogging up his throat with beat after beat even when the train had stopped, racing like a rabbit’s who was about to get shot, trying to fit all the heart beats left in life in the shortest amount of time possible. The nonexistent waves rushed in his ears. Dry mouth. Tense hands. Aching back. Nothing mattered. _Open. Open. Open. Open. Now._

The little girl’s name was Minako. She told him so after Daichi had helped her jump down the high train steps like only little children do, her mother bowing gratefully to him and smiling warmly as she reclaimed her daughter’s hand. Daichi bowed back, straightening to wave Minako and her mother goodbye. Her smile was missing a front tooth. The moment he lost sight of them in the crowd Daichi let his gaze fly. _Finally he did_ , not roam, _fly_ , hungry eyes knowing exactly where to look to find. He had felt Kuroo's gaze upon himself all this time. Daichi’s heart did the weirdest thing. It almost felt like he was dying.

Kuroo was leaning against the same pillar as always. Same tight jeans, same overly big jacket to fit his tall frame, clinging loosely, same grin greeting Daichi when their eyes finally met.  
The thing is, if Daichi could, he would leave everything and run, like in the movies, and Kuroo would run to meet him and they would, in the middle of the platform, dramatic and over the top and perfect, just as the train would leave.  
Daichi didn’t run, but his steps were much too quick to be called walking.  
Kuroo didn’t meet him halfway, he stayed right where he was, back against the square dirty greyish white pillar covered in all kinds of messages from anonymous authors, both in English and Japanese.  
Daichi stopped right infront of Kuroo, too close for normal coversation, just right for them, letting his bag fall down next to his feet.  
Just as nervous as he had been leaving the train, just as calm he was now, with Kuroo’s face so close to his, neither broken nor bruised, whole, safe, smiling, fine, _there_. A relieved sigh was sitting at the back of Daichi’s tongue, a sigh full of „finally, I’m here“ and „I’m so glad to see you“. Daichi swallowed it down.  
Kuroo’s hands left his jacket pockets, sneaking onto Daichi’s waist, his hips, pulling him closer and letting them glide into the back pockets of Daichi’s jeans, sitting there surprisingly comfortably.  
Kuroo’s palms were just right to...  
Daichi let himself fall forward slightly, moving in half a step until his chest could lie against Kuroo’s and his forehead could lean against Kuroo’s shoulder and Kuroo’s frosty nose was breaking the warmth between the scarf and the skin at the back of Daichi’s neck.

"I missed you."

Daichi’s voice was slightly muffled, his hands gripping the shirt underneath of Kuroo’s open jacket tightly. The fabric was clingy and stiff but Daichi would scold him later for risking catching a cold. Or maybe...

„It's not summer anymore, you know?"

"You should be glad I’m wearing a jacket at all."

"You should be glad I’m not in the mood to punch you."

"Oh? What are you in the mood for, then?"

Their quiet voices were low key but Daichi could still make out the teasing tone in Kuroo’s murmur.

"Gonna find out soon enough."

Daichi grinned unseen when Kuroo tensed up all over, letting a few seconds pass. 

„Can't wait."

Kuroo’s hands left Daichi’s pockets, his arms wrapping around Daichi, pulling him even closer.  
Daichi’s hands ran up Kuroo’s neck, folding in the back of it, pulling Kuroo down just far enough to let Daichi place his chin on Kuroo’s shoulder; comfortable, right.

If Daichi would have to explain what 'intimacy‘ means, the first thing coming to his mind would probably be touching and being touched by Kuroo.  
'Intimate' as in...close. Affectionate. Familiar. Warm. Hugging Kuroo after weeks of not being able to was all that times a thousand.  
Daichi often tried to find the right words for what he felt but it was hard to describe, the contradiction of his chest tightening with fondness and his mind going blank and his hands never wanting to let go, of his heart feeling light and fluttery and able to fly, to take him high and higher with every beat that he was enclosed within Kuroo’s arms.

It was as if they held a silent conversation as the minutes passed by and the trains came and left, as people boarded them, rushing, worrying about their own lives, not wondering nor caring.

Daichi couldn’t have said for how long they stayed in their huddle, for all he knew it could have been an hour or twenty but experience showed that about 10 minutes passed before they pulled apart, not saturated but at least not starving.  
Kuroo’s hands stayed where they were but Daichi let his own run down to rest on Kuroo’s chest, now warm from contact.

"See, I’m not going to get sick as long as you are close. You’re practically like an oven."

"You say that every time."

"Because it’s true. Oven. Mine."

Kuroo leaned his forehead against Daichi’s, their faces coming the closest yet and _oh_ , did Daichi want it, that kiss that the decreased distance promised. He wanted it badly and that’s why he pulled back after a few moments of almost tasting Kuroo’s lips again.  
Experience also showed that the longer they waited the sweeter it would be, and just like that anticipation boiled in Daichi’s gut.

"I missed you, too."

Finally, Kuroo let go of Daichi with a sigh so deep one would think he was about to lose something precious inevitably and irretrievably.  
Picking up Daichi’s bag that had been resting against the side of his calf, he grinned again, showing perfectly white teeth.

"But you knew that. I always miss you."

"Shut up."

"You can make me later. Let’s go, Luigi is probably waiting already."

Daichi rolled his eyes, stepping away and turning around, allowing Kuroo to carry his bag. It was definitely coincidence that he put the hand not on Kuroo’s side into his pocket and let the other hang loose. Definitely coincidence.

"Stop calling him Luigi."

"He _loves_ it when i call him Luigi."

„Luigi, Mario, he’s about as italian as I am."

"You have definitely something italian about you, have i never told you? You know, fiery passion and the tan and they always say Italians make good lo-"

Daichi moved to the side and bumped into Kuroo, throwing him off his sentence and course and making them both laugh („LASAGNA! Italians make good lasagna, I don’t even know what that was for!“), and as Kuroo stumbled back into pace his steps fell easily in line with Daichi’s, their hands, as if by accident, brushing together before connecting. How do you say? _Yours fingers fill the spaces between mine perfectly._

„I'm glad you came."

Daichi gripped Kuroo’s hand tighter.

"Me too."

"God dammit, Sawamura, that was the perfect assist for a golden line. How often do we have to-"

"Fine. I'm not gonna be the only one coming."

„…-That's more like it."

They broke into laughter just as they left the station, wind ruffling their hair and blowing up Kuroo’s jacket behind them.

"I can almost smell the pizza."

**Author's Note:**

> Tbqh, this was supposed to be a 500 word drabble and then i checked and it were 3.5k words. Now we are here.  
> Kill me.
> 
> Mehmes, I am thinking about you and I miss you and I love you. Please tell me this is not as horrible as I think it is.
> 
> xo
> 
> Edit: I should probably add that the title was kinda inspired/taken from Sam Smith's "Latch".


End file.
